How I love thee, mother of so many embraces,
And I’ll cherish thee, with all the spilled many graces.
And your hair, that which I see, to reveal how much you care,
It is strewn about,
Showing your negligence upon yourself,
But, where are you to care for you?
How I will kiss thee, mother of my Heaven,
And I’ll wrap thee, in arms placed in a way so even.
Though, your hair shows all signs of untidiness
In how you’ll nurture the children, with apron about the hips,
But, you’ll neglect yourself,
What will you do when you are pained?
We both breathe, new breaths into the open sea,
And call for us both, the storms to create wound after wound.
Your hair, so uneven and strewn, so disheveled,
Please do care, for the wounds of tears,
That have laced themselves around your delicate eyes.
You have restraint, and that is elegance.
Please do, accompany me
In a realm, together, for a healing journey.